Ella Tremaine's Arc

Chapter 5 of 9

Ella took two steps down the glowing path. Then her foot caught on the hem of her gown. She stumbled and dropped to one knee on the pearls. The silver dress had turned back to something plain and thin at the shoulders. She looked down and saw her bare feet on the cold light. She wore no shoes at all. "Wait." Ella turned back toward the garden. "Godmother. I have nothing on my feet. And this gown—it is not enough." Agathe stepped out from the hedge again. She had not gone far. Her eyes moved to Ella's bare feet, then to the thin silver cloth. "You are right," Agathe said. "The palace floor is marble. Bare feet will not do." "Then help me. Please." Agathe lifted the wand. The star at its tip caught the moonlight. "Stand still." Ella rose and held her breath. Agathe touched the star to the silver cloth at Ella's waist. The fabric bloomed outward. The thin gown thickened and layered. A corseted bodice laced itself tight around her ribs. The neckline slid off her shoulders. The skirt spread wide, blue and white, sheer layers falling over one another to the ground. Silver thread ran through the cloth like frost on a window. Ella pressed a hand to the stiff bodice. It held her upright. "It fits like it was cut for me." "It was." Agathe lowered the wand toward Ella's feet. "Now the shoes." Light gathered on the pearls beneath Ella's toes. It hardened and cleared. Two slippers formed on her feet, made of glass. They caught the road's glow and threw it back in tiny sparks. Ella wiggled her toes inside them. They felt warm, not cold. They fit like skin. She lifted one foot and stared. "Glass. They should break." "They will not break tonight," Agathe said. "They are yours until midnight, like the rest." Agathe raised the wand one last time and swept it past Ella's head. Ella felt her hair lift and twist. It coiled up off her neck and settled high, smooth and full. A few curls fell loose at her cheeks. Ella touched the shining coils. She looked down at the wide skirt, the laced bodice, the glass on her feet. For the first time she did not look like a servant. She looked like someone the palace doors would open for. "You are ready," Agathe said. "Do not forget the hour." "I will not." "Say it back." Ella met her eyes. "At midnight the gown is rags. The road closes. The glass will be gone." "Good." Agathe stepped back into the shadow of the hedge. "Go. Be seen." Ella turned to the road of thorns and pearls. It climbed away toward the palace, steady and bright. She gathered the wide skirt in both hands. This time her feet did not slip. The glass held firm on the light. She began to climb.